Push, push, push, push.” He told me, “This is a skiing-like exercise at the end of the circuit to see whether she can maintain composure and form even under fatigue.” She could. Toward the end, she walked back and forth on a slack line and picked up cones, which she put on her head or threw at Lackie. Afterward, she spent half an hour on the physio table, with her legs encased in Norma Tec pressure pouches, which apparently squeeze out the lactic acid, like toothpaste from a tube. Then she drove back to the condo, where she reheated the last of a batch of chicken strips with salsa, cheese, and rice that she’d cooked earlier in the week. She said that she consumes about twenty-five hundred calories a day.